


Pitch Black

by Lady_Tragedy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, D/s kind of relationship, Deflowering, F/M, First Time, Graphic Rape/Non-Con, HBP AU, How Do I Tag This, I'm Sorry, Non-Consensual Touching, Smut, Submissive!Hermione, beware of the rape warning, dominant!Draco, it's a really twisted story, it's not a relationship really, sorry for that, trigger warning, why do I always write dark stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8572276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Tragedy/pseuds/Lady_Tragedy
Summary: “I apologize... Master Draco.” She spitted the word out, its unfamiliar taste still enough to make her feel uncomfortable. “How can I make up to you for this fault in my behaviour?”Heat and shame blended together as she finished talking, and settled low inside her stomach. She looked up shyly between her eyelashes, locking her eyes with Malfoy’s beautifully grey ones and letting the lust and humilliation she felt to be shown raw in her eyes, waiting.Then Malfoy reached down to grab a handful of her hair and yanked her up roughly, securing his other arm firmly around her waist. The mischevious spark in his eyes made her mouth water, and suddenly her mind was consumed with one simple thought: To please Draco, and serve him, and be his... for as long as the Tempus charm remained silent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is... a something I can't even remember why I wanted to write, I'm sorry in advance because it depicts a totally surreal situation, but also it's mostly an excercise for my smut writting. Comments and chritics are very much apreciated.

The first time she submitted, it was more a matter of survival than actual pleasure.

 

Hermione found herself inside the Room of Requirement in a desperate attempt to give Harry and Professor Dumbledore more _time_. Something was definitely going to happen that night and she had to delay it somehow, _she_ had to find a way.

 

She had to. Everyone was counting on it.

 

As soon as Harry had left the Gryffindor Tower and Ron had run to find Ginny and Luna to give them their share of _Felix felicis_ , Hermione had slipped out too and had run to the only place she had known she’d find him.

 

Certainly, going to Draco Malfoy without a clear plan in mind had been a call for disaster on Hermione’s part, but she hadn’t had enough time to think about it. The only thing that mattered in her panicked mind was to occupy the room for long enough that Malfoy couldn’t do whatever he was meaning to do tonight, or at least until Professor Dumbledore came back.

 

If he wanted to fight, she would fight him. If he wanted to run, she would chase him. And in the off chance he wanted to talk... well, Hermione thought herself smart enough to entertain his mortal enemy for at least a couple hours.

 

Not that she wanted to talk, no matter how insistent the diplomat in her was. Draco Malfoy wasn’t one to budge by sheer force of speech.

 

 _“It doesn’t hurt to try, though_.” She had thought right before entering the Room of Requirement and finding herself lost in a pitch black darkness.

 

Now, the memory of her naivety made her wince. How childish of her to believe that she, on her own, could fool a Death Eater (even if it was indeed a young one). How reckless of her to leave the Tower without telling anyone else where she was going. And how very, very innocent of her to believe that the worst thing Draco Malfoy could do was to send a few hexes towards her.

 

Not that she could do anything about that now.

 

“Granger!” Malfoy’s harsh exclamation jerked her out of her reminiscence. “Do the favor to pay attention when I’m giving you an order! Jeez, you insufferable Gryffindor.”

 

Hermione bowed her head and straightened her back, trying to make her kneeling position more elegant and dignified to show her regret at having spaced out in the presence of her Master. The already usual flare of shame and guilt burned her guts, spreading a faint blush over her cheeks and neck.

 

“I apologize... Master Draco.” She spitted the word out, its unfamiliar taste still enough to make her feel uncomfortable. “How can I make up to you for this fault in my behaviour?”

 

Heat and shame blended together as she finished talking, and settled low inside her stomach. She looked up shyly between her eyelashes, locking her eyes with Malfoy’s beautifully grey ones and letting the lust and humilliation she felt to be shown raw in her eyes, waiting.

 

Then Malfoy reached down to grab a handful of her hair and yanked her up roughly, securing his other arm firmly around her waist. The mischevious spark in his eyes made her mouth water, and suddenly her mind was consumed with one simple thought: To please Draco, and serve him, and be _his._.. for as long as the _Tempus_ charm remained silent.

 

* * *

 

 

_The inside of the Room of Requirement was pitch black. It was so dark, in fact, that Hermione thought for a second that maybe she had gone blind._

 

 _After casting a_ Finite Incantatem _and some other diagnostic spells that could tell her if there was something magical blocking the light inside the room, Hermione’s senses became acute enough for her to make out the sound of another breathing not too far away from her._

 

 _She walked slowly and carefully towards the sound, thinking perhaps she had found some kind of creature that was already guarding the place, like_ Fluffy _. When she was about two feet away from the sound, a smell like green limes and lavender filled her nose, and she instantly understood that there was no magical creature, nor help, nor protection before her._

 

_Even with that thought in mind, the smell was so attractive that she couldn’t stop moving, not even when a pair of strong, thin hands found her and dragged her close, all the time groping at her curves, her lower back, and finally her face._

 

_A startled gasp broke the silence, and the next thing she knew, there was wetness over her mouth, and a jolt of pleasure made her arch against the unknown chest that pressed her back onto the wall when an intrusive tongue caressed the back of her teeth._

 

_Hermione fought against the mist fogging her brain, but both the intoxicating smell of limes and the vicious corporal attack reduced her resolve until it became smaller than a knut. All the new sensations she was experiencing seemed to dissolve the world around her, and soon there was no place inside her to foster thoughts of fear, or Death Eaters, or... Ron._

 

 _The only things that mattered right now was the impressive force with which the unknown man (she could_ feel _now his manhood against her hip) had forced her down to the wooden floor, and the consuming fire that couldn’t be saciated no matter how hard she returned the kisses, and how fiercely she clawed at the stranger’s back over his shirt._

 

_When the stranger started pulling at her sweater, though, Hermione’s fear came back full force. What the hell was she doing here, in the middle of the darkest obscurity, making out with some unknown person right there on the floor? Was she a dog in heat or something?!_

 

“Get a grip Hermione, come on!!”

 

_Her thoughts, however, were instantly drowned when the stranger pulled at her hair, forcing her head back and baring her neck to a rough bite. A loud noise escaped her throath, closest to a scream than a moan, but that didn’t stop the stranger._

 

_If anything, that only encouraged him to keep biting Hermione’s ears, neck, shoulders and lips, and she couldn’t find it in herself to fight back. Not now, when her body felt oddly tense but languid at the same time, and not later, when the stranger managed to rip her clothes off and started manhandling her exposed, over-sensitive skin._

 

“I’m going to be raped here, aren’t I?” _She asked herself idly, paying only half mind to it when the stranger’s mouth found her breasts and started suckling harshly, painfully. It sent an electric shock straight to her groin, in a way nothing she had known or experimented before had done._ “He’s going to take me against my will and I won’t be able to do anything about it.”

 

 _The pleasure she felt after that particular thought shook Hermione to her very core. How could she find pleasure in something like that? It was outrageous!! No woman should ever feel that way about..._ rape _. How dare she? This situation was clearly something she didn’t want..._

 

_Hermione raised her hands to the man’s shoulders, trying with all her might to push him off of her even though her whole body was trembling from the painful pleasure the stranger had provoked with his roughness._

 

 _When the man simply took her wrists with one hand (his hands were_ really _big) and pressed them on the floor over her head, a wave of both relief and resignation washed over her. Of course, she’d never admit the first one aloud, but at least her conscience fell silent after that weak attempt at breaking free of his captor’s skilled hands._

 

 _As the man pushed her legs wide open using the weight of his hips, she couldn’t help the eagerness she was trying so hard to hide. The soft skin of her pussy was wet and achingly sensitive, and she felt the visceral need to be_ filled _. Not caring about loosing her virginity on the floor of a magical room, and not rememembering at all what she was supposed to be doing, Hermione welcomed with another deep kiss the burning feeling of the man’s cock entering her in two swift stocades._

 

_Her lower half felt full, like she had never known it could be. There was a quiet pain lingering somewhere between her legs, but as the stranger bit her neck once again, she lost track forever of what was pain and what was pleasure. They were one and the same, forever blended and forever confused inside the pitch black darkness that had became Hermione’s whole world._

 

_Caged between the man’s arms, chests pressed flush in the tightest embrace they could manage without stopping the slow, deep thrusts, Hermione felt lost in the sensations: the sweat, the warmness of his skin, the pain in her legs for being spread open like that, the building pressure where her flesh encircled his cock, and the smell of limes that still intoxicated her mind with every ragged breath she took._

 

_The end came too soon for her, her orgasm trapped inside his demanding mouth, a tidal wave of something she couldn’t describe ripping her soul off her body and leaving her both numb and overly alert, relaxed and tense, satisfied but yearning for more. Her pants became moans when he varied the angle and speed of his thrusts instead of stopping, and as she clawed at the wooden floor for dear life she realized that he was no longer holding his hands and yet she had kept them above her head._

 

_Suddenly horrified at what had just happened, and kept happening right now, Hermione tried to kick off the stranger and started crawling towards what she thought to be the door. A strong hand landed on her head, and pulled her back again by her hair._

 

_Hermione yelped, startled at the spark of arousal that the pull had sent south. Coming back to her senses, she started struggling again, even though she could feel the man’s dick hovering dangerously close to her pussy, ready._

 

_“No! Not again, please, stop!” She finally managed to yell, her cheek pressed against the floor by the man’s hand, her legs folded beneath her in a weird kneeling position that made her feel completely exposed. Defenseless._

 

_Aroused._

 

_“Is that the way you treat the man who just took your virginity, Granger?” The man drawled, and Hermione’s blood froze in his veins. She knew that voice._

 

“It can’t be. It can’t. It’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him...”

 

_“Although, of course, I much rather this course of action instead of whatever Potter’s or Weasley’s tactics were.” Malfoy kept talking, tightening his grip on Hermione’s hair and forcing her hips up in the air, spreading her knees with his. “If this is your idea of diversion, Granger, I must tell you it worked. There’s no way in hell I’m completing my task tonight.”_

 

_Hermione scratched the floor again, trying to inflict herself some kind of pain as punishment for her stupidity. She had forgotten absolutely about her mission. She had came here wanting to do something and she had ended up like this: Kneeling before Malfoy with his dick pressing against her pussy, face flat against the floor after being fucked for the first time in her life._

 

_Deflowered._

 

_When she was about to burst with rage, Malfoys cool voice interrupted her. “Tell you what, Granger. I believe you are masochist material, if your prior reactions were anything to go by.” With no warning, he pushed inside her abruptly, and she shouted out in pain before unconsciously wriggling her hips to rut against him before she could stop herself. “Yeah... I thought so.” At least his voice sounded strained, Hermione thought. Somehow that helped her feel better. “Let’s make a deal right now, right here. I’ll give you information on the Dark Lord, and in exchange you’ll submit to me for a certain time each week. How does that sound?”_

 

“Awful, that’s how that sounds, you bloody prick.”

 

 _She was opening her mouth to say exactly that when a distinct sound of wood over fabric made her freeze. It seemed like that bastard was prepared to hex her if she refused. Maybe_ Obliviate _her. And if he did so, then she’d be vulnerable to him if he ever tried to approach her again._

 

_A harsh thrust got another involuntary moan out of her, and when she tried to lift herself up on her elbows a loud slap echoed in the darkness. “Did I tell you to rise?”_

 

_Hermione knew then that she was lost, and there was nothing she could or wanted to do to get out of this. So she did what the situation demanded._

 

_She submitted._

 

_“30 minutes,” she said, voice low and regretful. “I’ll give you 30 minutes every week, and I’ll increase the time 10 more minutes the longer and more useful your assistance is to bring Voldemort down.”_

 

_Malfoy’s hands grabbed her hips and lifted them up even more, casually thrusting in again. Hermione could practically hear him smirking at her, but she couldn’t care less, right now. Her body was aching, and it felt as if her groin was on fire every time he moved; if he rejected her offer, she wasn’t sure she could endure another round without loosing all her ability to think rationally._

 

_Suddenly a rough drawl broke the silence, and Hermione’s train of thought. “Deal. But from now on, whenever we’re alone, you will call me Master. Are we clear?”_

 

_He punctuated his order by forcing Hermione´s back to arch even more with his right hand, painfully so, while the other one grabbed her left nipple, pinching it harshly._

 

_“Ah!,” Hermione couldn’t help but gasp loudly. She could feel blood rushing all over her body, and a contradictory feeling of dread and want engulfed her when reality downed on her._

 

_Then Malfoy thrusted again, hard, pulling at her hips. “I said, are we clear?”_

 

_Hermione couldn’t take it. Swallowing down the tears of shame threatening to spill from her eyes, she pressed her forehead against the floor and let her arms rest limp above her head. “Yes, Master.”_

 

* * *

 

The _Tempus_ charm went off and Hermione quickly sprang up from the soft bed where she had been cuddling Draco after what she thought had been their best session so far.

 

 

She started putting on her clothes, already planning to take a bath in the Prefect’s Bathroom before going back to the Gryffindor Tower, when a slim, cold hand circled her wrist much like their silver shackles had done just half an hour ago.

 

 

“Are you really going right now?,” was all Draco asked, eyes terribly open and relaxed. He looked like he didn’t know Hermione was here just to fulfill her side of the deal. Like he actually saw Hermione as a person instead of the object of his property they always pretended she was during their time together.

 

 

Hermione looked away before she could think of more stupid things, like how Draco almost looked vulnerable _on purpose_ , as if he wanted her to know that he truly wanted her to stay.

 

 

“The time is over, Draco. Bring me better information next time and you can keep me here ten more minutes.”

 

 

She hated how her voice sounded so cold and empty, but then again, she wasn’t here to make friends or... fall in love. She had someone to love, and it definitely wasn’t a Slytherin Death Eater. Having sex with Draco was simply a thing she had to do to help win the war, no more.

 

 

“Right,” Draco sighed after a while. He didn’t even bother to look hurt, or disdainful. He just stayed there, red silken sheets over his waist and silently looking at Hermione fixing her red and golden tie as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

 

 

Standing on the treshold, she allowed herself a momment of weakness and looked back, only to find Draco’s eyes following her with burning intensity. “See you next time,” Hermione said in the most flat tone she could manage.

 

 

Draco stared at her for two seconds before turning over on the bed and pulling the blankets to his chin. “Yeah. See you next time, Granger.”

 

 

Hermione exited the room and started walking as fast as she could, her heart beating happily with the promise to come back even if she’d never admit it at loud.

 

 

_Soon. I’ll come back to you and our pitch black room soon enough... Master._

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if you'd like this to be a multichapter series, please let me know. I had planned a lot for this AU but I don't know if anyone would read it. Anyway, I hope you... like it? Or at least don't hate me too much for doing this to Hermione.  
> Thank you for reading :)


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